


Face of the Moon

by unrestedjade



Category: Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story
Genre: F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrestedjade/pseuds/unrestedjade
Summary: After the events of arc one, Mifuyu spend an evening at the villa, and Yachiyo has a lot of feelings about it.
Relationships: Nanami Yachiyo/Azusa Mifuyu
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Face of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leafbladie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafbladie/gifts).



> Leafbladie supplied me with the outline, and I just put it to prose. Writing from someone else's outline is interesting! Hopefully the end result is enjoyable.

The conversation around the dinner table, as ever, was lively. On an ordinary night, Yachiyo would let her friends' voices wash over her as they recounted their day's affairs, argued, and joked. Tonight, her shoulders were tense, and the food passed her lips without her tasting anything but ashes. 

Mifuyu's eyes met hers briefly across the table, sparkling with mirth from something Felicia said. Warm and familiar. So familiar. They'd shared hundreds of meals together at this table. Thousands.

The others were getting along, chatting amiably with Mifuyu, making her laugh. Like friends. Yachiyo looked down at her plate. She wanted to let bygones be bygones. She did, truly. But she couldn't get into the jovial spirit everyone else was sharing.

Dinner concluded, Mifuyu insisting on helping to clean up, after which it was time for tea and dessert-- petit fours that Yachiyo and Iroha had baked together. Iroha's clever use of fruit and food coloring left cakes in the colors of their magical girl outfits. Strawberry for Iroha, kiwi for Sana, mandarin orange for Trusruno, grape for Felicia, and blueberry for Yachiyo. By chance, Mifuyu's plate held one of the blueberry cakes. 

As the conversations and horseplay continued among the girls, Yachiyo watched, an indescribable tightness in her chest, as Mifuyu plucked a large blueberry off the top of the cake. Setting it to her lips, she used the tip of her tongue to lick the frosting off. 

Mifuyu must have felt Yachiyo staring at her. She looked up, smiled, and popped the blueberry into her mouth.

Small, cool fingers touched Yachiyo's arm, light as a sparrow landing on a branch. "Yachiyo," Sana whispered, gazing up at her in concern. "Are you feeling alright? You're pale."

"Yes, thank you, Sana," Yachiyo said softly, nodding at her and forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired after a long day."

At her other side, Iroha gave her an unobtrusive look that seemed to say "I understand" and "thank you for trying so hard." Or maybe that was just what Yachiyo wanted to hear her say. Mifuyu's presence wasn't a one-ton leaden weight on anyone else's chest. Only her own.

"I suppose it is getting late," Mifuyu said, the gracious guest. "I should be going, so that you can relax and rest."

Tsuruno looked up from her impromptu game of thumb-war with Felicia. "What? The last train's gone by now. Why don't you just crash here tonight?"

Yachiyo snapped from her mental fugue. Her eyes darted to Tsuruno, but the damage was already done. Her kouhai had a big heart and an even bigger mouth. 

Mifuyu shook her head. "Oh, I couldn't impose on Yachiyo like that. This isn't my home anymore. Besides, it's a nice night for a walk."

Yes, a ten-kilometer walk. Yachiyo couldn't very well insist that Mifuyu leave now that Tsuruno had extended an invitation on her behalf. They'd have to have a little talk about that tomorrow. For tonight, Yachiyo would only look churlish and unreasonable if she refused to let Mifuyu stay. This was a boarding house, after all. 

"It's no imposition at all," Yachiyo said, feeling as though she were speaking past a throat full of sand. "I insist, Mifuyu."

Mifuyu gave a small, polite bow. "If you insist, Yachiyo."

Was Mifuyu mocking her? Yachiyo didn't know what to think of anything her oldest friend did or said anymore, searching for hidden motives around every corner. Nothing, no matter how small, could be taken at face value. 

She hated feeling like this, paranoid and distrustful. The fact of Mifuyu's deception was so hard to keep clear in her mind now that all was said and done. But Yachiyo had no choice but to keep reminding herself. She had to keep her head straight, no matter how nicely Mifuyu smiled or spoke.

  
Later, after everyone had bathed and gone to bed, Yachiyo lay staring up at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. Every crack in the plaster and every water stain was as familiar to her as her own face, this house a part of her body just as it had been part of her grandmother. Knowing Mifuyu was sleeping under this same roof again kept her awake. Dinner had been an unsettling trip down memory lane, despite that most of the other faces around the table were different than they'd been when Yachiyo was young. Her heart had been back there, with her younger self, and Mifuyu, and Kanae and Mel.

Those memories were untrustworthy, tainted by the reality of who Mifuyu had become, what she'd done with the Magius. And what she'd done to Yachiyo, like their friendship and all that went along with it was something to be tossed aside without a moment's regard.

Yachiyo rolled over to face the window, staring out at the same view she'd seen each night since her childhood. Seven years ago, when Yachiyo had made her contract, the gentle moonlight streaming in through the window had taken on a new preciousness. The night sky soothed her despite the perils and tragedies that had dogged her since she was twelve years old. Yachiyo traced the craters on the face of the moon with her eyes, willing herself to forget about Mifuyu sleeping in the next room.

It wasn't working. It was strange. There had been a time not long ago when Yachiyo would have given anything to know Mifuyu was safely asleep here in the villa where she belonged. Until relatively recently, this old house had been Mifuyu's home, too, but now her presence was a violation, unwelcome after all the futile searching for her was finally done.

Tossing fretfully, Yachiyo rolled over onto her other side. Should she get up for a while, read a book? Sighing, she opened her eyes.

Mifuyu stared back at her, eyes wide in the dark "Can't sleep, Ya-chan?"

With an undignified yelp, Yachiyo scrambled away, only to tumble out of bed. Her butt hit the floorboards and she was left staring up at Mifuyu giggling at her over the edge of the mattress. 

"And what," Yachiyo hissed, disentangling her legs from the blankets with what little dignity she could muster, "are you doing in my bed?" Had Yachiyo really been so distracted that she hadn't heard or felt Mifuyu join her? That wasn't good. 

Mifuyu scooted back over to make room for Yachiyo to climb back into bed. Yachiyo did so, if only because she wouldn't be bullied into sleeping on the sofa in her own home. "I'm sorry to spook you," Mifuyu said, stifling another laugh. "I thought you knew I was here."

"I don't know why you'd think that." Yachiyo rolled over to face away from Mifuyu, taking the lion's share of the covers for good measure. "I don't recall inviting you."

The mattress shifted, and Yachiyo felt Mifuyu cuddle up against her back. 

"Now, don't be dishonest," Mifuyu said, slim arms wrapping around Yachiyo's waist. "You didn't really mean for me to share a room with Iroha, did you? You're so protective over her."

Put that way, Yachiyo mused that it would have been better to offer Mifuyu this room in the first place. Yachiyo wouldn't have been so uncomfortable on the sofa.

"Isn't this nostalgic?" Mifuyu nuzzled into Yachiyo's hair, her breath tickling the back of Yachiyo's neck. "We used to hide under the covers like this after hunting a difficult witch. Do you remember?"

Yachiyo remembered. Late nights spent huddled together under heavy blankets, the only warmth in a drafty house. Exhausted and strung out from battle and hands entwined while they talked one another back from the emotional ledge and back to safety. Though it hadn't been quite like this, Yachiyo considered, with the soft crush of Mifuyu's breasts against her back, their hips nestled together like spoons in a cutlery drawer. 

Mifuyu kept up both sides of a murmured conversation, hugging Yachiyo tightly. "You must not have been lying about being tired. At dinner, I was starting to think you didn't want me here, but there's no way I could have caught you off-guard unless you really were worn out." She slung one leg over Yachiyo's thighs, the weight not uncomfortable. "Still, that was adorable, Ya-chan. Is it mean of me to think you're cute when you're off balance? It's so rare to see you be anything less than perfect."

"Is that so?" Yachiyo had long ago earned a reputation as something of an ice queen. That had been intentional, a necessary measure to keep herself and others safe from her own wish. Willingly locking herself in a sort of solitary confinement. In the days before she'd befriended Iroha and the others, how she'd ached for Mifuyu's company. And now? Now, she didn't know. She'd missed Mifuyu so intensely for so long. But the betrayal, the hurt, the lies were so great. This Mifuyu wasn't the one Yachiyo had mourned.

Or perhaps that Mifuyu-- the kind, fair-minded girl who'd tempered Yachiyo's own fire-- hadn't been real at all. Perhaps Yachiyo had seen someone who wasn't really there back when they'd curled around each other in this very room.

"You don't have to be so strong all the time," Mifuyu said, her hand caressing Yachiyo's belly and side. "Least of all with me. The danger is past, now." 

_And you were complicit in that danger_ , Yachiyo thought, skin prickling into goosebumps when Mifuyu's fingers ghosted over her ribs. It was a cold night, but with Mifuyu wrapped around her, breath humid against Yachiyo's neck, it might as well have been the middle of summer. 

Mifuyu's nose bumped against the space behind Yachiyo's ear. "Your shampoo is the same," she said, lips brushing the sensitive skin there and voice reverberating through Yachiyo's skull, sending shivers down her spine. Her hair prickled on her scalp. "You always were a creature of habit."

She must be, to accept Mifuyu's presence in her home, her bed. Yachiyo lay still as stone. Every point of contact between their bodies made her nerves sizzle with electricity. She thought of ice, rain, the surface of the moon. Cold. She needed to be cold. 

Mifuyu leaned more weight onto her, warm and soft and heavy. Her hand dragged upward slowly, lightly. It paused at the base of Yachiyo's sternum, where her soul gem rested in her magical form. Then Mifuyu moved it again, cupping Yachiyo's breast. Her fingers kneaded gently and Yachiyo's body mutinied against her will, nipples jumping to attention, skin on fire under Mifuyu's touch. 

All at once, it was too much, too much, and Yachiyo flung the covers back, driving her elbow back into Mifuyu's ribs. Mifuyu gasped and let go, and Yachiyo lurched out of bed, feet rejecting the cold floor. She stood, shaking and furious, the gusset of her panties shamefully dampened.

"Yachiyo?" Mifuyu sat up, the strap of her borrowed nightshirt slipping down over one shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"How?" Yachiyo heard her voice cracking, too loud in a quiet house. "How can you ask me that?" she hissed. She had to keep her voice down, lest she wake up any of the others. That would be just what she needed, for Iroha or Sana or Felicia to blunder in on this scene. "You should know perfectly well that I'm not alright-- not with you, not with any of...this!" She gestured helplessly at Mifuyu, the bed, the room around them. "How can you lie there and act like we can simply pick up where we left off as if the whole past year never happened? It happened!" She could feel her voice rising again and quashed it, arms crossed tight over her chest. 

The fabric of her nightgown chafed against Yachiyo's oversensitive skin and she hated it. Her feet were cold on the floorboards, and she hated that, too. She wanted to be warm in bed, with Mifuyu. She shouldn't, and she can't, and Mifuyu was awful for doing this to her. 

Mifuyu pulled the covers higher around her shoulders, as if she were cold, too, now that Yachiyo had left the bed. "I don't deny anything that I've done," she said, eyes downcast and melancholy. Yachiyo wasn't going to fall for that sympathy-seeking routine again and hardened her heart. "I stood trial with the rest of the Magius, didn't I? I took responsibility. Have you changed your mind? Should I have given up my magic, my life?" She chuckled, once, with no humor in the sound. "You can carry out any sentence you think is fair. I won't fight if it's you."

"I don't want you dead," Yachiyo said, wondering why she felt like the villain here. "The business with the Wings of the Magius is over, and there's no point digging it up again." This-- here, right now-- wasn't about Kamihama, or the Magius, or anything to do with Mifuyu's atonement or lack thereof for her crimes. This was solely about the two of them. Yachiyo had been just one of many magical girls Mifuyu had manipulated, lied to. She hadn't mattered to Mifuyu any more than any of those girls, so why was Mifuyu here now? 

_What about me? Forget Kamihama and the magical girls and all the rest. Why did you lie to me? Why did you let me suffer? Why did you hurt_ me _?_

Yachiyo couldn't make herself speak the words. Her throat was clamped tight, hot and burning like her eyes and her belly and heart. Why didn't Mifuyu just leave? Surely she should be able to tell she wasn't wanted here. Or was she enjoying watching Yachiyo squirm? It was impossible to tell. 

"You always do what you think is right," Mifuyu said, shaking her head sadly. "Even when you don't want to. That's why I'll never measure up to you, Ya-chan."

"I have no reason to harm you." Yachiyo bristled momentarily at the implication. She wasn't heartless. She had feelings like any other girl. "But I don't think I can trust you again." Saying the words made it real, somehow. And it felt like tipping her hand, but Yachiyo knew she had to draw this line bright and clear. They couldn't go back. Mifuyu couldn't undo what she'd done. For her own good, Yachiyo had to keep a distance between them, this time for reasons far more mundane and tawdry than the lethal side effects of her wish.

Mifuyu stood up from the bed, dragging the covers with her like a queen's cape. "I understand," she said. "A lot's changed since I left to join the Magius." She paced closer, and Yachiyo willed herself to stand her ground. "You know, it was so strange during dinner." Mifuyu stopped in front of Yachiyo, opened her arms to wrap the covers around both of them. "I kept expecting to see Mel or Kanae walk through the door. But it's good to hear girls' voices in the house. It's supposed to be full, right?" She leaned her forehead against Yachiyo's. "Maybe it's been lonely, too."

How dare she? Yachiyo couldn't speak around the lump rising in her throat. She shivered as Mifuyu's body heat and the heavy covers pulled the chill from her body.

"I've decided I don't want to get married," Mifuyu said, apropos of nothing. "I want to live as a normal girl, but maybe not so normal as having a husband."

Swallowing, Yachiyo ground out, "That's none of my business." She sounded petulant in her own ears. Of course, she didn't want Mifuyu to get married, whispered a traitorous corner of her heart. Of course. She'd never wanted that, had quietly seethed at any mention of a boy in Mifuyu's life without knowing the reason. Only that she didn't want anyone to come between them, to change everything.

But that was before.

Mifuyu reached down and took Yachiyo's hand, pressed it to her breast. Yachiyo's hand sunk into pliant flesh, surrounded by Mifuyu's warmth. "All this time, I felt so ashamed of myself. Both of my body and what it wants. What I want." She smiled, gentle as sunrise. Yachiyo could feel Mifuyu's heartbeat fluttering beneath her palm. "Say what you will about Alina, but she did help me figure some things out. Life is too short, Ya-chan. I don't want to waste any more time pretending."

She leaned in, and Yachiyo could only stand there, still as a statue, as Mifuyu pressed her lips to Yachiyo's own. She tasted like mint toothpaste, a shock of coolness to offset her heat. 

Yachiyo's first kiss. 

Yachiyo kept her eyes open, Mifuyu's pale eyelashes and the porcelain delicacy of her eyelids filling her vision, out of focus for being too close. She didn't know how to move her mouth, too stunned to even try.

"Change isn't always bad." Mifuyu's lips brushed butterfly kisses over the corner of Yachiyo's mouth. "It might not be mutual anymore, but you're still my best friend. And more." Mifuyu pulled back a bit, searching Yachiyo's eyes with her own. "Can you give me another chance?"

Yachiyo knew full well that she couldn't trust this. She couldn't give in, not now, not to a few flattering words and a kiss. But...

But she still loved Mifuyu. She did. That was the truth. She'd never stopped, even after Mifuyu had given her reason to stop. Yachiyo couldn't help herself. She knew it was foolish. She knew she couldn't withstand another heartbreak like that. And yet, she put her arms around Mifuyu's neck. She let Mifuyu kiss her again. She kissed Mifuyu back this time. 

Mifuyu was right. Yachiyo wasn't strong-- not all the time. Not now.

Mifuyu held her tightly, safe and close and warm. Dizzy, breathless, Yachiyo let herself sink into Mifuyu's embrace. It was easier than it should have been to forget they'd ever been apart. Mifuyu was here, whole, alive, soft and tasting of toothpaste. Her skin smelled like lavender from the bath, velvet soft under Yachiyo's hands. Yachiyo could feel her heartbeat quickening, bird-wings fluttering against her ribcage with each kiss, each caress. They grew more urgent, shyness abandoned. They two were together and they were alive, and maybe Yachiyo could let that be enough, as it had been enough before. 

"Maybe now," Mifuyu said, catching her breath and smiling fondly at Yachiyo, one hand wandering beneath Yachiyo's nightgown and raising goosebumps on her thigh, "we can be partners for real."

_Partners._ Just like Yachiyo had written in a letter to Mifuyu what felt like a lifetime ago. When she'd poured her heart out onto a piece of paper for Mifuyu's eyes only. Mifuyu remembered. She'd remembered Yachiyo writing all that, and had betrayed her anyway. She hadn't cared.

Yachiyo pushed Mifuyu away. The blanket fell from her shoulders as she staggered back. Bereft, the cold air of the bedroom hit her with a fresh sting. Like jumping into an icy pond. And yet at the same time, she'd just come up for air. She'd been on the brink of drowning in Mifuyu. "I think you should go."

The spell broken, Mifuyu stood facing her, hair mussed and lips swollen. "Yachiyo?" Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, but Yachiyo wouldn't let herself be moved. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Go," Yachiyo snapped, hating the pleading tone of her words. This was her house. This was her room. This was her heart. Not Mifuyu's. "It's best if we don't associate with each other."

Mifuyu's face darkened. "Just like that, huh? You make a decision and that's it, no matter what." She kicked the pooled covers out of the way and turned toward the door. "Fine. If that's what you want, then there's nothing I can do."

Saying anything further would give Mifuyu reason to stay and argue, so Yachiyo didn't try for the last word. She watched Mifuyu walk to the door. Past her, the hallway stretched out dark and deserted. How many times did this make? Mifuyu was always the one to leave. Yachiyo was the one to cast her out. Never mind that it was with good reason. Some compromises couldn't be made, and Mifuyu had made it clear where her priorities lay long ago. Not with Yachiyo. 

So why did it feel like Yachiyo was plunging her own spear into her chest, watching Mifuyu leave?

Yachiyo turned away, unwilling to witness the moment when Mifuyu disappeared through the doorway yet again. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, knees curled up to her chin. The covers still lay in a rumpled pile on the floor, but that was alright. Yachiyo wanted the cold. She wanted to let her heart freeze over and go numb. She stared out the window at the moon, tracing the edges of the craters with her eyes, as if it's soft light would dry the tears wetting her cheeks. 

Behind her, she heard the latch of the door as it gently clicked shut. So it was done, then. Perhaps for good, this time. Good. That was for the best. She didn't want to forgive Mifuyu, to love her, to let her off the hook. To let Mifuyu get in close only to wound her again.

The mattress dipped, and Yachiyo felt slender arms encircle her, light and warm as sunshine. 

"I was being selfish," Mifuyu said, stroking Yachiyo's hair. "I'm sorry, Ya-chan."

The last of her strength shattered, and Yachiyo sobbed. Mifuyu didn't shush her or say anything more. She only pulled Yachiyo to her, let Yachiyo rest her head on her breast while her tears soaked through the material of her nightshirt. 

"Mifuyu," Yachiyo strained, struggling for enough breath to speak. "I'm...so angry..." 

Mifuyu stroked her hair.

Anger wasn't a strong enough label for the emotion shredding Yachiyo's insides to pieces. Rage and grief and regret, and so many other things she couldn't put names to swirled up and out of her, torn from her chest and throat and eyes. She cried herself hoarse against Mifuyu's chest, a glacial shelf of crystallized anguish built up over the many long months of Mifuyu's disappearance sliding free all at once. 

Yachiyo didn't know how long they sat there on the bed. Eventually, she had no more tears left in her, eyes sore and heavy, her chest hollow. She hiccuped now and then, and Mifuyu didn't comment or tease her. She only handed Yachiyo the glass of water from her nightstand and went back to stroking her hair. Yachiyo sipped the water, its coolness soothing her parched throat. 

Mifuyu's heartbeat thudded in her ear, steadfast in the way Mifuyu had proved not to be. Yachiyo handed the glass back. She let Mifuyu stand up to gather the covers. She let Mifuyu spread the covers over them both, and lie back with Yachiyo's head again pillowed on her breast. She let Mifuyu slide her fingers through her hair. They didn't speak. There was nothing more to say. Yachiyo dozed, wrung out and exhausted, nestled warmly against Mifuyu's side.

In the morning, Mifuyu would return home. Yachiyo would be relieved, by then, to bid her goodbye. But for tonight, it was too painful to watch her go.


End file.
